& later I realised I was halfway through my journey waiting for a phone call (but I couldn't remember my own name. waking up to the sound of drilling wearing a t-shirt backwards I heard the dogs bark outside (artists drank soju & looked at leaves as if they were maps & the traffic was silent & to meet travellers who might be gone by nightfall, oh! wash- ing piling up in my room without seeing stars when I didn't need a candle without a breeze from the sea & showering under a cold hose. passing the ajumma out the front of her seafood restaurant (that took my breath away smiling at the girls holding hands at the markets. green revenue stamps from the immigration department layered like a thinking plate of kim chi & about my faraway family (or an overwhelming grief as humid as bowls of bubbling soup. then the phone call made it all different. where old men sit in the park on newspapers listening to the trills of old ladies at sweet stalls. in which season is it now on the verge of turning. when my wallet bulged in my pocket, staring at holes in the bottom of empty soju glasses, watching as Koreans dreamed on the subways or standing in line. catching pigeons with a net I eat dinner alone in a city where everyone eats together, pore over hangul script crossing roads & counting seconds as the lights change wasted checking emails with a mosquito and a ceiling fan buzzing in my ears fished for hope in streams step- ping over puddles of spittle in the street. I no longer recall Australian radio stations. those were really days drinking coffee cold from a can land of caffeine calm
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What, you can’t remember “you-know-what-i-mean” or t-r-i-p-l-e-j?
Hmm, trying to remember but I’m getting nothing. Nothing, I tell ya!